I settled into a quiet corner of the library, surrounded by a fortress of old newspapers and magazines. The musty scent of aged paper mingled with the faint smell of ink, creating an oddly comforting atmosphere. The dim lighting cast long shadows, and the soft whispers of other patrons filled the air. My fingers brushed against the brittle edges of the pages as I searched for any clues about the Crimson Guild. I had been at this for hours, my curiosity driving me deeper into the stacks.

One headline caught my eye: "Crimson Guild Crumbles: Explosion Leads to Disbandment." The words seemed to leap off the page, drawing me into the article. I leaned in closer, the text painting a vivid picture of chaos and destruction. The guild had been notorious, its members involved in illegal activities and dark magic. Their reign had ended abruptly with a massive explosion, leaving their headquarters in ruins and their members scattered.

"Wow," I whispered to myself, running a hand through my perpetually messy hair. "This is big."

I continued to read, fascinated by the details. The article described how the authorities had been closing in on the guild for months, but it was the explosion that finally brought their reign to an end. The survivors had scattered, and many had gone into hiding. As I read on, I felt a chill run down my spine. This wasn't just some old story; it felt like a warning.

My eyes drifted to a sidebar listing members who were never caught. My breath hitched as I spotted a grainy photo of a much younger Hugh. The caption read: "Members Still at Large." I stared at the stern and intense look on his face, my mind reeling with questions.

"No way," I muttered, shaking my head, as my mind was a whirl of questions, "Hugh... What did you do?"

My hand hovered over the page, torn between the need to know more and the fear of what this revelation might mean. But I had to know the truth. With a quick motion, I carefully tore out the page with Hugh's picture and the article, folding it neatly and slipping it into my jacket pocket.

I needed to get back to the shop and figure out what this all meant. As I walked out of the library, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each one pulling me deeper into the mystery of Hugh's past.

The sun had started its descent, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets as I made my way back. I couldn't shake the feeling of unease. The image of Hugh in that article was seared into my mind. He had always been a bit of a mystery, but this... this was something else entirely.

I kicked at a loose pebble on the road, watching it skitter away. My thoughts were racing, each one more confusing than the last. How could Hugh have been involved with something like the Crimson Guild? And why hadn't he ever mentioned it?

As I walked, I passed familiar faces, shopkeepers closing up for the day, children playing in the fading light. Everything seemed normal, but I felt like I was seeing it all through a different lens. My world had shifted, and I was struggling to find my footing.

The shop finally came into view, and I quickened my pace. The weight of the torn page in my pocket felt heavier with each step. I pushed open the door and was greeted by the familiar sound of clinking metal and the soft hum of magical energy. Hugh was more anxious than ever, pacing back and forth with a furrowed brow. His usually steady hands trembled slightly as he worked on the intricate components of the device.

"Hey, Hugh," I called out, trying to keep my tone casual. "Everything okay?"

He barely glanced up, his focus glued to the device in front of him. "Fine, Leon. Just... busy."

I watched him for a moment, my curiosity piqued. Before I could say anything else, the door swung open, and the damn butler entered, his presence like a dark cloud looming over the shop, especially since he seemed to be coming more frequently now. His stern face and impeccable attire exuded an air of authority. Their conversation was tense, filled with thinly veiled threats and demands for progress.

"Mr. Whitford," he said, each word dripping with condescension, "you assured us this would be completed weeks ago. My employer is growing impatient. He expects results, not excuses."

Hugh's response was measured, "I'm working as quickly as I can," Hugh replied, his voice steady but betrayed by the strain in his eyes. "These things take time."

The butler's gaze hardened, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Time is something you no longer have. My employer does not tolerate delays, and neither do I." With that, he turned and left, leaving Hugh visibly shaken.

"What was that about?" I asked, trying to keep the alarm out of my voice.

Hugh sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. "Just some business I need to take care of. Don't worry about it, Leon."

But I did worry. As I watched Hugh return to his work, the image of his younger self in that article burned in my mind. Something was seriously wrong, and I needed to get to the bottom of it.

The butler's words echoed in my mind as I lay awake that night, turning over the growing puzzle of Hugh's past. By morning, I had made up my mind—if Hugh wouldn't talk, I'd have to find the answers myself.

I grabbed my transforming tool and headed to the forest. The peaceful surroundings seemed like the perfect place to clear my head and focus. As I walked, the cool morning air filled my lungs, and the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves provided a soothing backdrop. I reached my usual training spot, a small clearing surrounded by towering trees, and took a deep breath, trying to let go of my worries.

To help with my training, I decided to create a straw dummy using my magic. I closed my eyes and pictured the classic straw dummy with a straw hat, funneling my magic out into a bright blue light. The light coalesced in front of me, slowly taking shape until a life-sized straw dummy stood before me, its hat slightly askew.

I took a step back, admiring my work. The dummy looked sturdy enough for what I had planned. I started with some basic moves, switching the tool from a hammer to a sword. The familiar motions were comforting, like a well-rehearsed dance. I focused on the feel of the tool in my hand, the weight of it shifting as it transformed. It felt good, solid. But no matter how hard I tried, my thoughts kept drifting back to Hugh and the article.

I swung the hammer with a grunt, feeling the solid thunk as it connected with the dummy. The dummy quivered under the force of my strikes, the sound of straw crunching beneath the hammer filling the clearing. 'Focus, Leon,' I muttered, tightening my grip on the tool. But the question gnawed at me, refusing to be ignored: why had Hugh never mentioned his past with the Crimson Guild?

I transitioned the tool into a sword, feeling the weight change in my grip. I went through a series of slashes and parries, each movement precise. The straw dummy offered little resistance but was enough to keep my muscles engaged. But my mind wandered again. Who was that aggressive butler, and what kind of pressure was he putting on Hugh?

I shifted the tool to an axe, the blade gleaming in the dappled sunlight. I swung at the dummy, the impact reverberating up my arm. Hugh had always been a mentor to me, a steady presence. The idea that he had a hidden past, one tied to something as dark as the Crimson Guild, was hard to reconcile with the man I knew. It made me uneasy, like the ground beneath my feet wasn't as solid as I thought.

Lost in thought, I hastily attempted to shift the tool into a dagger-like screwdriver. My mind was still swirling with questions about Hugh, and in my distraction, I forced the transformation without the usual care. The axe resisted the change, the metal groaning as if alive, fighting against my command. The entire tool began vibrating in my hand, an unnatural shudder that sent a jolt of unease through me.

Sweat beaded on my forehead as I tightened my grip, trying to force the transformation. But the vibration only grew stronger, the energy within the tool spiraling out of control. The spatial runes engraved on the handle flickered erratically, glowing a sickly green instead of their usual steady blue. Panic shot through me as I realized the mistake I'd made. I had pushed the tool too far, too fast.

"Come on, come on," I muttered desperately, trying to stabilize the tool, but it was too late. The vibration turned into a violent shaking, the runes flashing brightly one last time before they burst apart with a deafening crack. Time seemed to slow as the compressed space, usually held in check by the intricate rune work, was suddenly unleashed all at once.

A shockwave of force exploded outward, a blinding flash of light searing my vision as the air was torn apart by the release of energy. I was thrown off my feet, the ground vanishing beneath me as I was hurled backward. The world around me spun wildly, the rush of air and the roar of the explosion filling my ears.

My back slammed into a tree with bone-jarring force, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs. Pain lanced through my arm, sharp and immediate, as I crumpled to the ground. For a moment, everything was a blur of light and sound, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer power of the blast.

As the dust settled, I became aware of the sharp smell of ozone and burnt wood. Groaning, I tried to move, but my body screamed in protest, especially my injured arm. Through the haze of pain, I noticed the remnants of my transforming tool scattered across the forest floor, pieces of metal and shattered runes gleaming dully in the sunlight.

Groaning, I tried to get up, but a sharp, searing pain shot through my arm, forcing me to stop. I bit back a curse as I cradled the injured limb against my chest, the pain radiating up to my shoulder with every slight movement. "Great job, Leon," I muttered through gritted teeth, the frustration and embarrassment hitting me as hard as the explosion had.

I forced myself to stand, each motion sending waves of pain through my arm. My head was spinning, and I could feel the dull throb of what I hoped was just a bruise forming on my back where I'd collided with the tree. The remains of my transforming tool lay scattered around me, broken shards of metal and splintered wood half-buried in the dirt. I knelt down, wincing as I gathered the pieces with my good hand, every action slow and deliberate to avoid aggravating my injury.

The walk back to the shop felt longer than usual, every step a challenge as I struggled to keep my balance while nursing my injured arm. The forest that usually brought me peace now seemed to close in on me, the towering trees casting long shadows that felt more ominous than comforting. The sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves, once soothing, now grated on my nerves, reminding me of how distracted I'd been.

By the time I finally reached the outskirts of town, my vision was starting to blur, and my breath came in ragged gasps. The pain was relentless, stabbing through me with every heartbeat, and I could feel the edges of panic creeping in. What if my arm was broken? How was I supposed to repair the tool, let alone finish my other projects, if I couldn't even use my dominant hand?

The shop came into view, and I all but stumbled through the door, the familiar clink of metal and hum of magical energy barely registering through the haze of pain. Hugh, who had been working on some intricate components, looked up as I entered. His face immediately paled when he saw the state I was in, and he rushed over, concern etched deeply into his features.

"Leon! What happened?" he demanded, his voice tinged with alarm as he guided me to a nearby stool.

"I... I messed up," I admitted, each word feeling like it cost me more strength than I had to give. I could barely hold back a wince as Hugh gingerly took my arm to examine it. "I got distracted and switched forms too fast. The tool exploded... and I think my arm's broken."

Hugh's frown deepened as he carefully checked for any serious injuries, his hands steady despite the worry in his eyes. "You need to be more careful, Leon. This could have been much worse," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "But more importantly, what distracted you?"

I hesitated, my frustration and curiosity boiling over as I considered how to answer. My mind was still reeling from the pain and the shock of the explosion, but I knew I couldn't keep this from him any longer. "Hugh," I began, my voice low and strained, "I need to know what's going on between you and the butler. I found an article about the Crimson Guild... and I saw your name. I need answers."

Hugh's face drained of color, and he let out a long, weary sigh, as if the weight of his past had suddenly become too heavy to bear. He gently helped me over to a chair, his movements careful as if he was afraid I might shatter like glass. "Alright, Leon," he said, his voice tinged with resignation. "You deserve to know the truth."

He sat down across from me, the weight of his past visibly settling on his shoulders, making him seem older and more worn than I had ever seen him. "Years ago, before everything went wrong, I was a craftsman for the Crimson Guild. But back then, the guild wasn't what it's known for now. We were a close-knit group, more like a family than anything else. Our mission was to protect our own, to safeguard our community from the dangers that lurked outside. We were a light guild, respected and trusted by those we served."

His gaze drifted to the floor, lost in memories. "We took on jobs that others wouldn't, helping those who had nowhere else to turn. It wasn't about power or wealth; it was about camaraderie and doing what was right. I believed in what we were doing, and for a long time, it felt like we were making a difference. But then... things changed."

Hugh paused, running a hand through his graying hair, as if trying to brush away the heavy thoughts. "A new guild master took over—a man named Ulric. He was charismatic, a natural leader, but there was something off about him. Under his command, the guild started taking on darker contracts, dealing with dangerous artifacts and forbidden magic. At first, we justified it, telling ourselves it was necessary to protect what we held dear. But it didn't take long for the lines to blur."

His voice grew quieter, tinged with regret. "I tried to ignore the signs, to focus on my craft and keep my hands clean. But the more Ulric consolidated power, the less we could resist. The guild became something else entirely, a shadow of what it once was. And those of us who questioned it... we found ourselves trapped. Leaving wasn't an option, not without severe consequences."

Hugh's hands clenched into fists, the memories clearly painful. "Tobias... he was part of my team, someone I considered a friend. But he embraced the new direction wholeheartedly. He rose through the ranks quickly, becoming one of Ulric's most trusted enforcers. I watched him change, becoming more ruthless, more willing to do whatever it took to achieve Ulric's vision."

His eyes darkened as he continued. "When the authorities finally closed in on us, the guild was on the brink of collapse. Ulric was desperate, and in a last-ditch effort to cover our tracks, he ordered the explosion. It wasn't an accident—it was a calculated move to erase our existence and scatter the survivors. I went into hiding, trying to start over, to leave that life behind. But Tobias found me. He knew who I was, what I was capable of, and he saw an opportunity."

Hugh's voice trembled slightly as he spoke, the weight of his secrets finally coming to light. "Tobias has been blackmailing me ever since, forcing me to create an artifact capable of mind control. He's become as twisted as Ulric was, maybe even worse. And that butler... he's Tobias's enforcer, here to make sure I comply with their demands. But I can't let him use me to create something that could harm so many people."

I listened intently, my mind racing with the implications of what he was saying. "So, the butler..."

Hugh nodded, his expression grim. "Yes, he's Tobias's enforcer. He's here to ensure I follow through, to make sure I don't try to escape again. But, Leon, I can't let them win. I can't let them use what I've created to hurt innocent people."

Seeing the despair in Hugh's eyes, I placed a hand on his shoulder, my voice firm with resolve. "We can face this together, Hugh. You don't have to do this alone. We need to take action against Tobias. We can find a way to stop him, to put an end to this once and for all."

Hugh looked at me, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. "Thank you, Leon. I've been running from this for so long, but you're right. It's time to face it. Together."

I leaned forward, wanting to understand more. "So what exactly is Tobias forcing you to create? You mentioned it's supposed to be capable of mind control?"

Hugh's expression darkened. "He wants a device that can amplify and project mind control spells on a massive scale. It's a dangerous piece of magic, capable of bending the will of entire groups of people. In the wrong hands, it could cause untold chaos."

My stomach churned at the thought. "And you've been working on this?"

"Reluctantly," Hugh admitted. "I've been stalling as much as I can, trying to figure out a way to sabotage it without them noticing. But Tobias is growing impatient. That's why the butler is here so often, to keep me in line and to pressure me to finish."

I felt a surge of anger on Hugh's behalf. "We can't let them get away with this. We need to find a way to stop them."

Hugh nodded, but his expression remained grim. "It's not going to be easy. Tobias has eyes and ears everywhere. We need a plan, and we need to be very careful."

I sat back, thinking about everything Hugh had told me. The enormity of the situation was daunting, but I knew we couldn't give up. "Alright. First things first, we need to make sure you're safe. And then, we'll figure out how to deal with Tobias and his enforcer."

Hugh smiled, a weary but hopeful look in his eyes. "Thank you, Leon. I've been carrying this burden alone for so long. It means a lot to have you by my side."

"We're in this together, Hugh," I said firmly, my voice leaving no room for doubt. "We'll figure it out, no matter what it takes."

Hugh looked at me, a mix of gratitude and worry in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then hesitated, the words seemingly caught in his throat. After a moment, I decided to ask the question that had been lingering in my mind.

"Hugh," I began carefully, "have you ever told your son about any of this? Does Ethan know?"

A shadow crossed Hugh's face, his expression tightening with pain. He shook his head slowly. "No, Leon. I've never told Ethan. He's always looked up to me, seen me as this respectable craftsman, a man who builds things to help others. He became a patrol officer to protect this town, to keep people safe, just like I always wanted. How could I burden him with my past? I didn't want to shatter that image he has of me."

I could hear the regret in his voice, the unspoken fear that revealing the truth might destroy the bond he shared with his son. "But now," Hugh continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "maybe he deserves to know the truth. Maybe it's time."

I nodded, understanding the weight of what he was considering. "Ethan loves you, Hugh. And he's not just your son—he's a good man, someone who's dedicated his life to protecting others. If he knew what was going on, I'm sure he'd want to help. He has resources and authority that we don't. He could make a real difference."

Hugh sighed deeply, the internal conflict evident in his eyes as he processed what I was saying. "You're right, Leon," he said after a long pause. "Ethan would want to protect me, to protect this town. But... it's hard. I've kept this secret for so long, and the thought of him looking at me differently, of seeing the man I used to be... it terrifies me."

I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I get it, Hugh. But you don't have to decide right now. When the time comes, you'll know what to do. And no matter what, I'm here to help."

Hugh managed a small, weary smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thank you, Leon. It means more than you know to have you by my side. But as much as I want to talk to Ethan, it wouldn't matter right now anyway. He's out towards Shirotsume, patrolling the main road. He left last week, and he's too far away to help us immediately."

I nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment. "I understand. But when he gets back, maybe we can fill him in. He might be just the ally we need."

Hugh seemed to consider this, then nodded slowly. "Maybe. For now, though, we need to focus on what we can do ourselves. We can't wait for Ethan—we have to act."

He glanced at my injured arm and the remnants of my tool, scattered across the workbench. "You should rebuild your weapon, Leon. It's a good tool, but it needs to be safer. Adding more safety features during the transforming stage should prevent another compression problem like the one that injured you."

I grimaced, remembering the explosion and the pain that followed. "Yeah, you're right. I'll get to work on that right away. Can't afford another mishap like today."

Hugh looked at me, his expression serious but tinged with concern. "And, Leon... take care of yourself. We're going to need you at your best for what's coming."

"I will," I promised, meeting his gaze with determination. I knew he was right—we couldn't afford any more mistakes. After he left to clear his head, I stayed behind in the workshop, staring at the scattered remains of my tool. The weight of what had happened pressed heavily on me, but I wasn't about to let it hold me back. With a deep breath, I dispelled the broken pieces, watching them fade away into nothingness. Then, with renewed focus, I began conceptualizing a better, safer version, knowing that I needed to be ready for whatever lay ahead.

Grabbing a small notepad from my storage, I sketched out an improved design. I integrated stronger materials, more advanced runes, and reinforced the core structure to ensure smoother transformations. The previous version had been functional, but its instability was a critical flaw that I couldn't ignore. This time, I needed something more robust, a weapon that could withstand the rapid shifts without risking another catastrophic failure.

I sat at the workbench, surrounded by an array of tools and materials, letting my mind wander over the possibilities. The workshop was quiet, save for the occasional clink of metal as I moved pieces around, but the silence only helped me focus. As I worked, my thoughts drifted to the dangers that lay ahead. Hugh's revelation about Tobias and the Crimson Guild weighed heavily on me. I knew we were up against something far more dangerous than I'd anticipated, and I needed to be prepared.

I turned my attention back to the tool, channeling my energy into the designs. Components materialized before me in a bright blue light, taking shape as I envisioned a stronger alloy that wouldn't buckle under pressure. The new tool began to take form, its structure more refined and its core far more stable. Palming the device, it felt balanced in my hand. I willed it to rapidly change form, testing the transformations. The transitions were smooth, seamless even, especially now that I had replaced the physical buttons with a mental switch, allowing for faster, more intuitive transformations.

"This already feels way better," I muttered to myself as I examined the tool. "The reinforced alloy will prevent structural failure, and the new runes should regulate the energy flow more efficiently."

Pleased with the result, I turned my attention to my injured arm. The pain was still there, a dull throb that I couldn't afford to ignore. I began sketching a design for a brace that would not only support my arm but also enhance its regeneration. I envisioned sleek, metallic grey straps wrapping around my arm in a helix formation, each one infused with healing magic.

The straps would channel regenerative magic directly to the injury, but I knew that simply imagining the effects wouldn't be enough. To ensure the brace worked effectively, I carefully etched regeneration and stamina-based rune structures into the design. These runes would accelerate the healing process while also maintaining my magic levels, ensuring that the brace didn't drain me too quickly.

With a wave of my hand, the brace materialized, glowing softly with a blue light. The metallic grey straps wrapped snugly around my arm in a helical pattern, firm but comfortable. "The regeneration runes should speed up the healing process," I mused, adjusting the fit, "while the stamina runes will help me maintain my magic levels as it siphons off the excess."

I slipped the brace onto my arm, immediately feeling the warmth of the healing magic as it began to work. A tingling sensation spread through my arm, and I could already feel the pain starting to subside. But as the magic took hold, I felt a gnawing hunger growing in my stomach. It made sense—enhanced healing required more nutrients, and my body was burning through them at an accelerated rate.

What else might we face? More enforcers like the butler? Dark magic? Artifacts designed to cause harm? The possibilities were endless, and each one brought a new wave of concern. My tool was just one part of the equation. I'd need more than just a reliable weapon—I'd need to be able to create on the fly, adapt to whatever challenges came our way. But there was a problem: my magic.

Every time I created something new, I could feel the strain it put on my core. My magic wasn't limitless, and each creation took a significant amount of power. The more complex the creation, the more energy it consumed. If I wasn't careful, I could easily find myself drained at the worst possible moment.

The thought gnawed at me as I continued to sketch. What if I needed to create something critical in the heat of battle, only to find my magic reserves depleted? I couldn't let that happen. I needed a way to store extra mana, something I could tap into when my core started running low.

That's when the idea hit me. A pendant—something small, portable, and capable of holding a significant reservoir of mana. It would act as a backup, a safeguard to ensure I always had enough power when I needed it most.

Ignoring the hunger for now, I turned my attention to the pendant. This was crucial, especially given how much power my magic consumed with each creation. I couldn't afford to be caught off guard, drained and defenseless. Channeling my magic once more, I brought the design to life. The amulet materialized in my hand, glowing softly as it absorbed some of my mana for later use.

The design was rather simple, as it was still in the prototype phase, where looks were not nearly as important as functionality.

I slipped it over my head, feeling the slight siphon of energy as it began to store my power. "It should allow me to create more complex constructs and keep my magic levels up during battles."

With the new tool, the brace, and the amulet complete, I finally allowed myself to relax, if only for a moment.

By the time Hugh returned to the workshop, I was putting the newly dubbed 'VersaTool Mk 2' through its paces on the enchanted dummy I had recreated earlier—the original was, well, scattered all over my training site. Each transformation was seamless, the added safety features working perfectly. Hugh stood in the doorway for a moment, watching me test the tool with a thoughtful expression.

"That looks much better, Leon," he finally said, a hint of pride in his voice. "I knew you could improve it."

"Thanks, Hugh," I replied, wiping the sweat from my forehead. "I'd say the new VersaTool is pretty versatile—you could say it's the tool for every job."

Hugh chuckled when he heard the name. "And people say my jokes are bad… hah… But seriously, it's impressive work, Leon. You've got a real talent for this."

I grinned, feeling a deep sense of accomplishment. "I learned from the best," I said, giving Hugh a nod. But my smile faded as I continued, "I just wish we had more time to figure things out."

Hugh's expression shifted to a more serious tone. "Yes, we do. Tobias won't wait forever, and we need to be ready for whatever he throws at us."

I set down the VersaTool, frowning slightly. "I know. But jumping into something without a clear plan... it feels like we could make things worse. We need to be smart about this, Hugh. If we can understand what we're up against, we can prepare ourselves properly."

Hugh rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You're right. We need to find out more about Tobias's operations and figure out who else might be involved. If we can gather enough evidence, we might be able to expose him and his enforcer."

I nodded, appreciating the more measured approach. "That makes sense. Do you have any leads?"

Hugh shook his head. "Not yet, but I know someone who might be able to help. An old friend of mine—he's good at digging up information, even in the darkest places. I'll reach out to him and see what he can uncover."

"Good idea," I said. "In the meantime, I'll focus on getting our tools and defenses in order. But I'll take it slow, make sure we're not overlooking anything important."

Hugh nodded, giving me a reassuring pat on the shoulder before heading to his own workbench. As he turned away, I caught sight of a piece of paper sticking out from under some blueprints on my desk. It was a rough sketch of a massive, intricate machine—something I had been daydreaming about since I was a kid. I glanced at it briefly, feeling a spark of excitement and nostalgia, before quickly tucking it back into my storage device. There would be time for that later; right now, we had more pressing matters.

With that momentary distraction behind me, I refocused on the immediate tasks at hand. Hugh's friend might come through with vital information, but until then, we had to be prepared, but smart about it.

Later that evening, I climbed the narrow stairs to my small apartment above the store. The space was modest but comfortable, filled with tools and half-finished blueprints scattered across every available surface. I flopped down onto the worn sofa, my mind still buzzing with thoughts of the day's events and what lay ahead. The weight of everything that had happened pressed down on me, but there was also a growing sense of resolve. Whatever was coming, I knew we would face it head-on—carefully.

As I stared at the ceiling, thoughts about the future began to swirl in my mind. Once everything with Tobias was over, what did I want to do? The idea of creating amazing things had always driven me, even in my last life, but there was more to it than just making things. I wanted them to be seen, used, appreciated… to have a purpose beyond just existing.

I thought about the world of Fairy Tail, a place where magic and camaraderie went hand in hand. Despite my frustration at not remembering all the details of the story, the essence of it stuck with me—how important it was to stand by your family and friends. That was something I knew well, something that resonated deeply within me.

But as much as those memories stirred something within me, the specifics remained frustratingly out of reach. I couldn't recall when certain events took place or many details about the characters. The only clear memories were of the magic, the bonds between the characters, and the importance of loyalty and supporting your family.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "What's the point of creating all this cool stuff if I don't even know what I want to do with it?" I muttered to myself. The dream of a place like Fairy Tail was appealing, but it felt distant and vague. Now, I was left wondering—what was next for me? What did I really want to do once this mess with Tobias was over?

For now, though, I had to focus on the present. There was still a lot to do to ensure Hugh's safety and to put an end to Tobias's schemes. But once that was behind us, who knew what I could do next? Maybe I'd finally find a way to make that dream a reality.

I was on the verge of drifting off to sleep when a faint noise downstairs jolted me awake. My heart leaped into my throat as I sat up, straining to hear. The sound of glass breaking followed by a muffled curse confirmed my suspicions—someone had broken into the shop.

Adrenaline surged through me as I silently slipped out of bed and grabbed the VersaTool in its cane form from where it rested nearby. I crept to the door and cracked it open, peering down the dark staircase. Shadows moved erratically in the dim light, accompanied by the sound of drawers being opened and papers being rustled through.

Whoever was down there was looking for something, and I couldn't let them find it. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself for what was to come. Slowly, I made my way down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky spots I knew by heart.

As I reached the bottom, I caught sight of a figure hunched over Hugh's desk, rifling through his papers. The intruder was dressed in dark clothing, his form obscured by a large, flowy cloak. His dark hair was visible beneath the hood, but his features were hidden in the shadows. He hadn't noticed me yet, too absorbed in his search.

I tightened my grip on the VersaTool, my mind racing.

"Hey!" I called out, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "What do you think you're doing?"

The figure froze for a moment before spinning around to face me. In the dim light, I couldn't make out his features, but the glint of something metallic in his hand made my stomach drop. The intruder had a larger, stronger build, and his voice was distinctly male.

"Stay back," the intruder hissed, brandishing a knife. "I'm not here to hurt anyone. Just looking for something."

"Drop the knife and maybe we can talk," I said, my grip on the VersaTool tightening. My injured arm throbbed with pain, reminding me how much this fight could cost me if I wasn't careful.

The intruder took a step back, clearly agitated. "I don't have time for this. Where is it?"

"Where's what?" I asked, trying to buy some time, all the while feeling the strain in my injured arm. Every movement sent a sharp jolt through my body, making it clear that I wouldn't be able to rely on my usual strength.

"Don't play dumb with me," the intruder growled. "The plans, the blueprints. I know they're here somewhere."

Realization hit me like a ton of bricks. He was after Hugh's designs, possibly the ones Tobias had been forcing him to work on. "I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, hoping to stall him further.

The intruder's eyes narrowed. "Enough of this." Suddenly, he moved with blinding speed, closing the distance between us in an instant. I barely had time to react, transforming the VersaTool into its sword form just in time to deflect a powerful punch. The impact sent a shockwave of pain through my injured arm, nearly making me drop the weapon.

My arms vibrated from the force, and I realized this wasn't just any burglar. He was using reinforcement magic to enhance his speed and strength. "You're a wizard," I muttered, more to myself than to him, my voice strained from the pain radiating through my arm.

"Got it in one," the intruder sneered. "And you're in my way."

He lunged at me again, faster than before. I barely managed to parry the blow, my injured arm screaming in protest as I did. The pain was intense, a burning reminder that my dominant arm was far from full strength. As if things weren't hard enough already. I countered with a slash, but my weakened state made it sluggish, and he dodged effortlessly, his movements a blur.

This guy wasn't just some amateur. Every move he made was calculated, and I was struggling to keep up. I swung the VersaTool in its hammer form, trying to land a solid hit, but my injured arm slowed me down, throwing off my timing. He slipped out of the way like it was nothing, and before I could recover, he drove his fist into my side.

I stumbled, the pain in my ribs making it hard to focus. My vision blurred for a moment as I gasped for breath, struggling to stay upright. I switched the VersaTool back to its sword form, slashing at him with what strength I had left. My injured arm protested with every motion, the pain nearly blinding, but I pushed through it. I managed to nick him, but it was hardly more than a scratch. He grunted, more annoyed than hurt, and I could see his patience wearing thin.

He moved in again, his speed overwhelming me. My injured arm, already weakened, couldn't keep up with his relentless attacks. I barely deflected his strikes, each one sending a fresh wave of pain through my body. I knew I couldn't keep this up much longer. My arm was failing me, and he knew it.

With a sudden burst of speed, he landed a heavy blow to my injured arm, sending the VersaTool clattering to the ground. I cried out in pain, clutching my arm as I staggered back, the world spinning around me. The intruder advanced, his expression cold and merciless.

This was bad—really bad. I was running out of options, and the pain was making it impossible to think clearly. I needed to do something, and fast, or this fight was going to end very badly for me.

"You're tougher than you look," the intruder muttered, wiping the small cut on his cheek with the back of his hand. "But this is taking too long."

He moved in again, faster, and harder. With the VersaTool out of my grasp, I had nothing to defend myself with. Panic surged through me, but I couldn't stop him. His boot slammed into my chest with brutal force, sending me sprawling across the floor. I hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of me as pain shot through my ribs. All I could do was watch as he turned his attention to the workbench.

"No… stop…" I wheezed, trying to push myself up, but my body wasn't cooperating. My arm throbbed painfully, and every breath felt like it was tearing through my chest. The VersaTool was out of reach, and even if I could get to it, I wasn't sure I'd have the strength to fight him off.

The intruder didn't seem to care about my weak protests. He went straight for the papers and parts on the workbench, searching quickly and efficiently. He knew what he was after. In no time, he had the artifact and the blueprints in his hands, stuffing them into a bag without so much as a glance in my direction.

He paused at the door, looking back at me with an unreadable expression. "You should really be more careful who you pick fights with," he said, almost like he was offering some friendly advice. Then he was gone, leaving me alone in the mess he'd made.

For a moment, I just lay there, trying to catch my breath and process what had just happened. The shop was quiet, the faint hum of the magical tools the only sound. Pain pulsed through my body, but more than that, I felt a deep sense of failure.

I finally managed to sit up, holding my injured arm as I looked around. The VersaTool lay on the floor where I'd dropped it, out of reach when I needed it most. And now, the artifact and blueprints were gone—everything Hugh and I had been working so hard to protect.

"Dammit," I muttered, more tired than anything else. This was bad—really bad. I'd underestimated the danger, and now we were paying the price. The fight had left me battered and bruised, but the real damage was to our plans, our chances of stopping Tobias.

I struggled to my feet, feeling the weight of what had just happened settle heavily on my shoulders. We were in deeper trouble than I'd thought, and whatever came next, it wasn't going to be easy. But I couldn't waste time dwelling on it—Hugh needed to know what had happened, and we needed to figure out our next move. There was no room for mistakes anymore.

Not with a device like that on the loose…

That's chapter 6 folks!

Leon now has a stronger version of his main weapon – The Versatile Tool! He also has his healing bracer for his injured arm, and an amulet to keep his magic reserves up!

What are you thinking of everything so far? I know you are probably wanting me to just get to the fairy tail plot, but I like to have a bit of build up before he joins the guild. Mainly so he has some experience but also to expand his repertoire of creations and have him learn everything in his tome that he seems to be putting off to the side.